


The Ghost Of You

by 0mniessence



Category: Saving Hope (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Comedy, Drama & Romance, F/F, Hospitals, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 07:17:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16970193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0mniessence/pseuds/0mniessence
Summary: Patients carrying a deadly airborne virus force the hospital to declare a quarantine, locking Sydney, Charlie, Zach, and Jackson inside the red taped area.Maggie, Alex, Dawn, Dana and the rest of the hospital staff are helplessly left to watch the events unfold on Live Television and through Camera Feeds while the Centers for Disease Control (CDC) try to identify the unknown strand of virus before it is too late for those trapped inside.Or....The one where Sydney crosses over into the Spirit World and Maggie is powerless to bring her back.





	The Ghost Of You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silasfinch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silasfinch/gifts), [hiJaq](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiJaq/gifts), [JulieVerne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JulieVerne/gifts), [Spinelli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spinelli/gifts), [echoicdreamscape](https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoicdreamscape/gifts), [InLust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InLust/gifts), [noahjz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/noahjz/gifts).



> Dedicated to the 7 authors that were the most influential in deepening my love for Lintz and developing my understanding of their relationship in the fanfiction realm to write them as believably as I could! You guys inspired me to try my hand at a Lintz fic! I've been lurking in the fandom for too long, thought it was about time I tried writing for this couple!
> 
> I hope this piece carries at least a quarter of the sophistication that your stories shower your audience with! Thank you so much for writing such entertaining fanfiction <3! Whether you continue to write for Lintz or have moved on to other fandoms, keep writing because you guys are amaziiiing! *fangirl squeals*
> 
> I apologize in advance for any medical inconsistencies. I tried to make the terminology sound as legit as possible, even if it's B.S.? Ha ha! 
> 
> (This story diverges from canon following the Season 3 Finale)

Like most Jewish people, Dr. Sydney Katz does not celebrate Christmas.

The old joke about finding Jewish families “celebrating” Christmas by eating out at Chinese restaurants isn’t too far from target.

The redheaded doctor places her kosher Chinese take-out box in her office as she changes into her professional white robe. She plans to save her meal for later into the day once she’s hungry. She tends to cook for herself, but she ran out of ingredients and the major grocery stores are closed today.

Today is December 25th and Christmas Day has landed on a Thursday, to the inconvenience of the working world’s calendar.

Most of the Hope Zion staff are out on extended holiday vacation and will not be returning until next Monday. Only those with nothing better to do with their lives than toil the day away have come in to hold down the fort.

The hospital administration had already scheduled in advance who would be on duty during the days that are notoriously understaffed due to the major holidays.

It is during these trying times that any workplace is happy to have Jewish employees since, due to aforementioned lack of celebration, they truly treat December 25th no differently than they do any other day.

Sydney is one of these indifferent few that have chosen to come in and cover ER shifts on holiday. Unfortunately, medical emergencies take no time off.

 _I believe the only Jewish people that possibly partake in Christmas celebrations are those in interfaith marriages,_ Sydney thinks idly to herself as she walks to the ER lobby area after receiving a page.

“Dr. Katz, we have three people being brought in by ambulance, they’ll be arriving in the next 10 minutes,” one of the ER nurses dutifully informs her. “First response has already begun oxygen supply for one of them—female with child.”

“How far along?” Sydney asks professionally.

“To be determined,” the nurse tells her.

“Okay, I guess I’ll find out for myself in the next… 9 minutes,” Sydney replies after a quick glance at her watch.

 _I wonder if Maggie celebrates Christmas_ , Sydney inadvertently considers as she stands in wait, on a completely unrelated note to her previous train of thought, of course.

~*~

And, _of course_ , it would turn out to be that they’re all dealing with a lethal airborne virus.

The miracle of Christmas—being presented with a rare disease that the lab is still trying to get results about and that the staff have no idea how to treat in the meanwhile.

Zach and Charlie, who it turns out are on duty with her and totally not being holiday Grinches, have already had their two patients die on them within the two hours that they were brought in.

Sydney’s patients, a woman named Mara Jane Wilde and her unborn son whose name his mother weakly but enthusiastically told her will be Jason Donald Wilde, are in critical condition and the mother is currently lying unconscious in one of the ER prescreening rooms.

The severity of the situation has forced the president of the hospital to announce a soft quarantine. All ambulance dispatches are being diverted to other medical centers, all walk-ins are being halted and sent to County, all discharges are being stalled, and all patients are getting started on antivirals to hopefully prevent progression of the disease.

“So, what do we know? All three patients came in and displayed symptoms at different stages of the illness,” Charlie begins the discussion.

“They all came in from a Malaysian flight,” Zach adds in. “I checked all their vaccine records, no missed inoculations, so they should’ve been immune to all known strands of virus.”

“All _known_ strands of virus, Dr. Miller,” Sydney emphasizes with an austere expression. “It’s highly likely we’re dealing with an as-of-yet unknown, unidentified form of a virus. It’s common knowledge that viruses evolve but usually the CDC is on top of any new instances and create immunizations before there is an outbreak.”

“Guess this one must’ve slipped under their radar, then, since here we are, stuck waiting ‘till the lab can try to ID it in some way that might help us treat it,” Zach voiced the obvious in slight frustration.

Charlie checks his phone. “Just got a notice that apparently an antsy patient is becoming rowdy in the ER waiting lobby. The claustrophobia from being on quarantine lockdown is getting to him.” He pockets away his phone. “I’ve got to go deal with him before he starts freaking out all the other patients.”

“More than they already are? I doubt that’s possible but, yes, go! Anything to overwrite Dr. Katz’ initial untactful delivery of the quarantine lockdown news,” Zach remarks with a teasing, faux-defeated shake of his head.

Dr. Katz, ever the socially in-touch physician, takes the statement at face value and is only slightly insulted. “Is there a right way to tell affected patients that they may have possibly contracted an unknown, untreatable, unforgiving respiratory virus that is believed to kills its victims within hours of infection? I would think that being transparent about the gravity of the situation is the best course of action.”

“Given their reaction, you may as well have told them they’re one of The Infected on The Walking Dead, and that we keep the brains in the organ freezer down in the Laboratory Area for when their Zombie selves start to get some cravings,” Zach says with a tightlipped smile and an eyebrow raise.

 _Not quite as charming as Maggie’s_ , Sydney mentally remarks as a sideline thought. She pauses. _Effective, that is._

She then realizes it’s rather ridiculous that she’s justifying her own thoughts to herself before lowly chuckling and smiling at Dr. Miller while she walks away saying, “If you’ll excuse me, Dr. Miller, I have to go check on the lab’s progress and my patient that’s still in critical condition.”

Zach raises his hands. “What do I do?”

“You’re the ER surgeon, I’m sure you’ll find plenty to do,” Sydney tells him with a playful shrug. “Maybe you can start off by writing with a dry-erase marker ‘Don’t Open. Dead inside’ on our glass doors?”

Zach laughs and snap-points his finger at the supposedly humorless Dr. Katz as he turns and heads to the lobby area to help Charlie. He will need to cancel the calls for extra personnel to come in now that the hospital is under quarantine and no one is allowed to go in or out.

 _Maggie would’ve been so giddy with pride to hear that_ , Zach amusedly thinks to himself, aware of the OB/GYN fellow’s fixation with trying to broaden the more conservative OB/GYN attending’s pop culture references.

~*~

Maggie runs into Alex on their way into the section of the hospital that hasn’t been placed under quarantine.

“Hey, you,” the obstetrics specialists greets in her casually upbeat voice. “Did you also get the bat signal?”

“I did,” Alex confirms just as lightheartedly casual. “I got into the bat mobile complete with baby bat booster car seat to drop off my rugrat at the daycare since I wasn’t expecting to be called in today.”

“That would be rug _bat_ if we’re sticking to the pun-filled analogy,” Maggie responds playfully. “There’s actually a daycare open during the holiday?”

“That’s code for ‘family friend,’” Alex clarifies with a smile. “’Tis the season to be… giving.”

“I bet they weren’t expecting to be given _that_ bundle of _jolly_ ,” Maggie remarks teasingly with a light chuckle.

“No, they definitely were not, but I essentially made it impossible for them to turn us away,” Alex confides with a somewhat cheeky grin. “I delivered Luke all gift wrapped with a seasonally appropriate blanket and silenced off with a festive ribbon-shaped pacifier.”

“Oooh, all nice and quiet,” Maggie comments, impressed. “Cute presentation, Miss Magical Christmas Stork.”

“The white robe helped sell the ‘stork’ image, I’m sure,” Alex follows up with a laugh.

“You showed up in full doctor getup, too? You certainly don’t play, Dr. Reid,” Maggie quips in jest. “But… all joking aside… do you know why we got called in today?”

Alex is about to respond when she sees that they are already steps away from the door to the Board room. “Well, let’s brace ourselves, Dr. Lin, we’re about to find out.”

They open the double doors in unison and find Dawn, Dana, the president of the hospital, and a couple of other doctors and junior residents of the hospital. There are 11 people in the room, including the 2 newcomers.

“Dr. Lin, Dr. Reid,” the president says in greeting before turning his attention back to the four monitors displaying images of the hospital in front of him and the rest of the members in the room.

Maggie and Alex politely greet those in the room in return before also turning their attention to the screens. Three of them showed live camera feed of different sections of the ER while one of them showed a news channel documenting what was occurring at the hospital in real time.

Maggie immediately feels like asking “What’s all this?” but then decides it’s more prudent to watch the feeds and listen to the news before formulating any questions.

“The Public Health Department and the Center for Disease Control are following the situation unfolding now at Hope Zion Hospital in Toronto, Ontario,” a female news anchor reports austerely with a very detached tone. “An unknown, lethal airborne viral infection has spread among patients at the hospital but has as of now been contained through a medical quarantine. Virologists and other field experts are currently trying to identify the strand of virus that could be wreaking havoc at the hospital upon those infected…”

“… What’s all this?” Maggie asks the question anyway, tone tinged with slight disbelief.

Alex quickly squeezes Maggie’s wrist in a show of comfort before letting go and turning to anyone for a response.

“A flight coming in from Malaysia carried in not only the intended passengers, but also an unintended disease on board,” Dawn informs stoically, making respectful eye contact with the two incoming doctors. “As you heard on the news, the CDC and Public Health Department are monitoring the situation. We also have the hospital lab trying to study a sample of one of the deceased patients to see if they can come up with anything that might help us figure out what we’re dealing with somewhat sooner. Anyone that has come into contact with the passengers aboard Malaysia Airlines Flight 3792 is being detained at the hospital, and other authorities are looking into passengers that did not end up in our care.”

“But if the hospital is under quarantine, then there is no longer a purpose to having called in extra personnel,” Alex points out as she puts the dots together. “None of us are hot zone certified, so we can’t enter and work in a quarantined area.”

“Great observation, Dr. Reid,” Dana pipes up as soon as Alex finishes her statement. “A realization that everyone already has come to seeing as how we’re all gathered in the Board room unable to do anything other than oversee the situation as it unfolds. The call for extra help was not canceled in time before the quarantine went into effect.”

“We’re no more helpful than the news outlets are,” Maggie murmurs with a disheartened body language.

Maggie pans her gaze around the room and takes note of the fact that none of the key staff went out of town for the holidays.

“We’re putting pressure on the CDC to work as fast as possible, since any healthy patients or staff that were inside prior to the lockdown risk the chance of infection as time goes on due to prolonged proximity to those that are already affected,” the president explains as he tries to reassure the entire room.

Alex blinks as she suddenly recalls something very important. “The staff… Who are the staff under quarantine?”

Dana meaningfully locks eyes with Alex. “The doctoral staff include Dr. Miller, Dr. Harris, and Dr. Katz; the nursing staff include Jackson Wa—”

“Charlie?” Alex inquires breathlessly.

“Syd—uh—Dr. Katz?” Maggie reiterates hollowly, feeling her stomach bottom out but still mindful enough of decorum not to accidentally out her more-than-professional regard for her obstetrics mentor.

First name calling among doctors is a privilege reserved to close friends and loved ones. Maggie doesn’t know if she has the right or permission from Sydney to refer to her by first name outside of direct casual interaction.

In this aspect, Maggie is mildly envious of Alex’s claim on Charlie and the validity of their relationship.

Maggie’s own interactions with the infamous Dr. Katz are an exercise on thin ice skating where one wrong move could cause her to collapse into water as frigid as being met with the senior obstetrician’s aloof cold shoulder.

“And Dr. Miller,” Dawn adds, somewhat cheeky during a dire situation. “In case anyone forgot.”

Maggie blinked twice rapidly and gaped for a second before saying, “Of course, we’re worried about Zach, too.”

She mentally notes how she has no problem calling him by first name. She hopes that this ease of his name use compared to Sydney’s won’t be examined too closely by her colleagues.

 _Oh, who am I kidding? I’m surrounded by overanalyzing surgeons—their job is literally to take something apart and dissect the heck out of it_ , Maggie inwardly berates herself, defeated. _Sorry, Syd, I think I just gave you away… or_ us _away…? Is there even an_ us _?_

Fortunately, Alex chimes in to interrupt her embarrassing internal meltdown. “Are they okay? Have they been exposed? What are the symptoms?”

Maggie nods in agreement to emphasize her need to know the answers to these questions, as well.

“They seem to be okay… for now,” Dawn assures with trepidation. “We can’t be sure about the extent of their exposure. They wore surgical masks while treating the infected patients, but this was before they knew of the airborne virus. They might not have taken care to not breathe in too deeply.”

Maggie lifts her hand to her chest, upon which said hand slowly curls into a concerned fist. She subtly rubs her thumb into her finger in slight anxiety as she awaits to her the rest.

Dana adds, “As far as symptoms, the most visible initial sign of infection is a red rash that gradually materializes into a fully detectable lesion at any part of the skin.”

“What’s the mortality rate been so far?” Maggie questions even though a part of her doesn’t want to hear the answer.

“On account of three known infected patients… 100%,” the president reveals somberly.

 _And Sydney is trapped in quarantine with a virus floating around that we know has a 100% success rate of killing its hosts,_ Maggie reasons in her head with a chilling, paralyzing fear.

The obstetrics fellow subtly shakes her head in denial as she inhales a deep breath to calm her nerves before speaking. “I’m sorry, I have to go down there.”

“Dr. Lin, you’re not allowed to go in there,” Dawn reminds sternly.

“I understand that,” Maggie snaps back defiantly, her voice steely but still respectful. “I didn’t say I was going in there, just that I’m heading there… to that section of the hospital… I have to make sure she—they’re all okay.”

“We can safely watch them through the monitors,” Dana reminds logically.

“We can safely watch them through a taped off glass door, as well,” Maggie retorts self-assuredly, determinedly glancing with soulful eyes at the screen containing Sydney caring for her patient in critical condition. “Otherwise, it feels too much like playing Big Brother, if you’ll excuse the comparison.” She pauses. “And if you’ll excuse _me_.”

With that said, she strides out of the room and Alex and the other occupants watch her go with near impressed expressions.

“Well, I plan to follow right after her to check on Charlie, as well,” Alex states after recovering and snapping herself back into the moment. “But, first, I have a couple of other questions I need answered…”

~*~

Mara is dead and has been placed on a portable ventilator to try and keep the child alive until they figure out what the disease is.

The disease that the lab is still no closer to identifying.

Vesicular Rashes. Chills. Fever. Weakness. Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome (ARDS). Full respiratory failure. Death.

Symptoms and orderly progression consistent with Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome (SARS), but much faster moving.

So that can’t be it.

 _Unless it’s a super-powered version of the same coronavirus?_ Sydney speculates thoughtfully, hand on her chin. _It’s still too much of a risk to assume an illness and treat it improperly if the guess is incorrect… and I don’t have access to the equipment necessary to test the hypothesis due to the quarantine block._

Sydney realizes she’s still stuck incapable of productively finding a way to ward off the viral affliction other than continuing with general antivirals. She’s too mentally and emotionally exhausted to think.

All she can do now is just hope that the CDC or the lab are able to provide the Hope Zion staff with useful information before it’s too late for those affected.

Sydney is ascertaining that the ventilator readings are stable when she receives a text message. She pulls out her phone to open it.

 **Maggie Lin, 11:16 A.M**.: Meet me at the sectioned off area in the back – the intersection between the lab entrance and ER.

Sydney decides to forgo a response since she believes it will be much quicker to just meet Maggie at the indicated location.

Maggie is already there when the redhead arrives, impatiently pacing in place and anxiously nibbling on her lower lip before she lifts her concerned gaze and it meets Sydney’s pleasantly surprised ones.

“Hey, Stranger,” Sydney greets with a subdued smile, ambling closer to the quarantined glass door separating the laboratory and the ER area, still able to see Maggie despite the crisscrossed red tape glued to the barrier. “I’m sorry to report that if you have business in the ER, you’ll have to hold off on that for some time since, as you may have noticed, we’re currently firefighting a bit of a _situation_ that’s unexpectedly come up.”

“No time for banter, Syd, are you okay? What about everyone else? How are the conditions in there?” Maggie shoots off immediately, voice slightly shaking with worry. She’s touching the glass, trying to bridge an impossible distance between the Jewish doctor and herself.

Sydney pauses for a second, momentarily thrown by Maggie’s uncharacteristic, mild panic. She’s so used to encountering the composed, casual, and confident version of the young obstetrics specialist that seeing her appear so unruffled is a new experience for the senior staff doctor. She idly wonders what could make this emergency situation so different from any other crisis that Maggie has calmly dealt with before.

She focuses first on reassuring her frazzled former pupil before delving further down that line of thought.

“I apologize, I realize I’ve probably had more time to get acclimated to my new reality under this indefinite quarantine,” Sydney gingerly appeases, excusing her flippant attitude when initially welcoming Maggie. “I’m okay. The last time I checked, which was around 15 minutes ago, everyone else was okay, as well. Finally, the conditions are dire and uncertain, but we’re coping and nobody’s rioting, so really, this is the best-case scenario we could hope for in light of the circumstances.”

“But you’re in danger, Syd, and the CDC is moving so infuriatingly, bureaucratically slow,” Maggie mutters with an expression of disgruntlement. “And the news outlets seem to get a sick kick out of keeping tabs on the number of confirmed deaths as if they’re points to tally up on a board game night or something equally moronic.”

“Now, don’t go insulting board games, I know you love them, you forced me to play Operation with you three weeks ago, need I remind you?” Sydney teasingly responds in an effort to lighten the tense exchange. Between her and Maggie, she isn’t usually the one in charge of maintaining the cheer, but given how their roles appear to have switched, Sydney wants to make sure her ex-mentee is not despairing at the state of affairs. “I actually find it rather offensive how many times the buzzer went off on me.”

Maggie is forced to allow a small smile to grace her lips despite the situation. “I can’t help it that I’m the better Play Surgeon.”

“In my defense, I specialize in obstetric surgery, not general surgery,” Sydney offers with an incline of her head. “And our plastic cutout patient Cavity Sam was definitely _not_ pregnant.”

Maggie’s smile widens with mirth. “That has got to be the worst game night defense I’ve ever heard come from a sore _loser_.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m a doctor, and not a lawyer,” the redhead admits as she leans on the glass door to preen cockily at her former student. “And most certainly _not_ a loser.”

“Those are fighting words, Dr. Katz,” Maggie points out in a playful warning tone. “I might just challenge you to a rematch, y’know, ask you to walk the talk?”

“And I might just accept that challenge, Dr. Lin,” Sydney agrees with a steady, confident timbre to her voice.

“Famous last words?” Maggie suggests with her trademark eyebrow raise and folded arms.

“Au contraire, it’ll be a day that shall live in infamy,” Sydney bluffs with false self-assurance.

 _She’s totally going to lose_ , Maggie thinks without a shadow of a doubt.

 _I’m definitely going to lose_ , Sydney thinks with just as much certainty.

Maggie is the first to let a subtle chuckle loose. “Oh, look at us, I told you no bantering during this very serious situation, and what do we do for the last two and a half minutes?”

 _Flirt_ , Maggie’s mind inappropriately autocompletes, but she perishes the thought before it further pushes her down treacherous roads.

“Just because I started it didn’t mean you had to volley back and forth with me,” Sydney reminds in her familiar no-nonsense tone. “It’s a free country, _Lin_.”

“And if the ball’s thrown on my court, of _course_ I’m going to participate,” Maggie lightly whines with a faint pout. “You know I can’t resist a good battle of wit. You play dirty, _Katz_.”

“Well, what’s important is that I got _you_ to clean up _your_ act, my brilliant former resident,” the Jewish doctor states with clear pride.

 _Foreplay_ , Maggie’s traitorous mind autocorrects its earlier chosen term. Her thoughts were anything _but_ clean.

Maggie contemplates shamelessly replying with “I greatly appreciate having been under your tit-elage” but luckily the part of her brain that exercises self-control and judgment prevents her from actually uttering the sentence out loud after realizing it might cross some professional-personal boundary lines that they were already struggling not to toe.

If only her words, poised with the power to kill the mood, also had the ability to kill whatever airborne virus is floating inside of the quarantined area…

“I learned from the best,” Maggie finally says with sincerity, directing Sydney a look that she hoped conveyed more gratitude and respect than love and adoration. “I had a great teacher.”

“ _Have_ ,” Sydney corrects with a laugh. “I’m not dead…”—she’s somberly reminded of the situation she’s currently in and the three patients that already succumbed to the disease—“yet.”

“Don’t say that, Syd, not even in jest,” Maggie pleads softy, walking closer to the spot on the glass pane that the redhead is leaning on. She places her hand by Sydney’s shoulder, as if she could touch her. “When I asked if you were okay, I didn’t just mean physically, you know? How are you, really?”

Sydney pensively stares at Maggie’s hand close to her shoulder before she intently levels her gaze against hers. “I… I’m concerned, Maggie, among other things. I think I needed this bantering reprieve more than anything, so _thank you_ for coming down here to check on us. I can understand why people are staying away, even with the area sectioned off against the virus. It must be scary to be so near a hot zone.”

“I imagine it’s even scarier to be _inside_ of one,” Maggie gently reminds, hoping to nudge Sydney towards acknowledging the gravity of her situation. “I watched you through the monitors in the Board room. It doesn’t seem like you’ve been taking care of yourself. I couldn’t stay away. I had to come down here and see to it myself that you’re not overexerting yourself. With this virus permeating the area, we can’t have you trudging around with a weak immune system. You need all your defenses in top shape.”

“It doesn’t matter how healthy one is, Maggie, this is an unknown strand – we just _don’t_ have the defenses,” Sydney rationally responds, scrunching her eyebrows downwards in consternation.

Maggie swallows and nods before idly tapping the glass and trying to lighten the mood by saying, “What are the chances that you would have been born with some kind of genetic mutation that grants you immunity to this specific strand of airborne virus?”

“If life were a sci-fi fantasy thriller and I the protagonist—technically possible,” Sydney says with a self-deprecating smile. “Considering this is real life and I’m just a simple doctor—next to none.”

“Simple doctor? And they say young, award-winning, medical field expert surgical prodigies are arrogant,” Maggie remarks, complete with a close-lipped smile.

Sydney rubs the back of her neck to relieve some stiffness from stress. “This whole deal with ‘overexerting’ myself that you saw? Minding the health of others over mine and trying to help? That’s just me attempting to distract myself. We’ve had three patients die on us so far, Maggie. I have a dead woman’s body on a ventilator right now just trying to keep her baby from suffering the same fate. It’s the least I can do after making false promises that they would both get through this.”

“You gave her the words of encouragement that she needed to hear in order to keep fighting,” Maggie fiercely counters. “Thanks to you, she died hopeful rather than despairing.”

Sydney finally allows herself to acknowledge her physical and mental exhaustion and unceremoniously slides down the glass to sit with her knees hunched into herself and her arms wrapped around her legs.

“Syd?” Maggie asks concernedly, sympathetically sliding down with her to match the new speaking height level.

“I know you’ve already said that my coming out doesn’t actually mean other aspects of my life have been cursed, but it’s really hard to reconcile that idea with the reality of my family freezing me out, my ex-fiancé getting a tapeworm and subsequently hating me, my Orthodox Jewish community rejecting me, my patient Mara dying on me, and my getting stuck inside this deadly quarantined area with my Chinese take-out lunch on the other side of the red tape,” Sydney rattles off tiredly, palming her forehead to try and get her mind to decompress.

Maggie frowns in commiseration. “None of that is your fault, Sydney.” She pauses. “Although that _is_ too bad about the Chinese take-out. Are you sure you’re not just ‘hangry’? Stressful situations combined with an empty stomach are a recipe for giving in to negative thoughts about ourselves.”

“Are you really presenting me with the ‘you’re not you when you’re hungry’ argument right now, Dr. Snickers-Lin?” Sydney asks with playful incredulity.

“Well, that depends, do you ‘need a moment’ to figure that out, Dr. Twix-Katz?” Maggie drolly replies.

They both lightly chuckle.

“I’m so proud of you,” Maggie admits, unable to contain her giddiness. “It seems like forcing you to watch brain-melting TV shows with me, commercials included, is really paying off.”

“You’re a bad influence, I can’t really say I’m all the richer for the experience,” the redhead reveals with a wry grin. “You should’ve seen me quote The Walking Dead at Dr. Miller earlier today. It was awful.”

Maggie raises an eyebrow at her. “Oh? I would’ve loved to hear that.”

Sydney only smiles cryptically at her and then turns away from Maggie’s gaze to stare into the double doors that lead back to the ER room.

Maggie does the same on her end and fully presses her back to the glass door, averting her line of vision from Sydney and staring in direction of the lab. She sits Indian style and plays with a bit of lint on her jean pants. She hadn’t had time to change into her doctor’s white coat.

She allows a couple of seconds to pass between them as she contemplates what to say next. She swallows thickly in preparation.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m here, I’m Chinese, and I’m more than willing to take you out,” she confesses smoothly and softly, her voice containing an underlying hint of nervousness.

Sydney promptly laughs. Maggie’s stomach drops. “That’s if the virus doesn’t take me out first; furthermore, like my missed meal, you’re also on the other side of the red tape.” She carefully knocks the back of her head on the glass and sighs. “That’s sweet of you, Maggie, I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t think anyone has the power to take us out of here until the quarantine is officially called off.”

 _Is she being deliberately obtuse?_ Maggie wonders cautiously as she listens to her former senior mentor misinterpret her statement. Then again, the Chinese-Canadian doctor had also purposely worded the sentence with a double-entendre to subtly test the redhead and see which way she decided to take it.

Maggie had hoped that this ambiguous come-on would permit them to resume discussion regarding the status of their relationship… mentorship… friendship… colleagueship… agh, whatever this was that they shared between them.

She knows right now is not the best time to initiate talks about such sensitive matters but, in Maggie’s slightly desperate and selfish mind, she’s aware of the fact that she essentially has Sydney cornered inside of the quarantined area, making it impossible for the shorter doctor to run away from or avoid having the discussion like she usually does during regular work days by making herself too busy to spare Maggie the time to chat about anything outside safe work-related topics.

It feels awfully manipulative to use the quarantine as a tool to force the Jewish obstetrician to speak about her feelings and their situation, but Maggie doesn’t know when she will be presented with such a golden opportunity again so, in a move that is uncharacteristic to her usually passive nature, she chooses to explicitly broach on the subject.  

“That’s not exactly what I meant by that,” Maggie boldly murmurs, still with her back to Sydney and clenching her hands into slightly anxious fists at her revelation. “Unlike your meal, we don’t have to miss each other.” She tightens her eyes closed and breathes in deeply, awaiting the other woman’s response.

Sydney registers Maggie’s admission and replays her former resident’s earlier words in her mind. She blinks in understanding, feeling a bit lightheaded at the realization. She rubs the back of her neck again as she surreptitiously turns to take a peek at Maggie. The daring doctor is not facing in her direction, so Sydney also turns back to face in the opposing direction, as she was doing before.

It’s tough to wear your heart on your sleeve, and Maggie is really being brave for putting herself out there, so Sydney can’t fault her for trying to alleviate some of her nerves by looking away.

“We were never really talking about food, were we?” Sydney gingerly offers an olive branch by acknowledging the real issue, clasping her hands together and pressing on her knuckles timidly.

“Not necessarily, this conversation still has the chance to run its course in either direction,” Maggie explains with as casual a tone as she can muster. “It’s up to you. I don’t want to push the issue if you’re not comfortable, Syd, but… I do at times wish I knew where I stood with you.” She recalls their sitting positions and, to diffuse some of the tension, lightly corrects, “Or _sat_ with you.”

Sydney takes a momentary pause, weighs all the pain and uncertainty that she’s probably been causing Maggie by remaining mum on the nature of their bond, considers Maggie’s familiar tendency to use humor as a defense mechanism to conceal the seriousness of her feelings, and then resolutely nods to herself as she arrives at a decision.

“Then I guess I have no choice but to address the pink elephant in the room, do I?” she says in a determined, strong, and clear voice.

“You always have a choice, I’d never want to corner you,” Maggie mutters, guiltily acknowledging the lie since, for all intents and purposes, that’s exactly what she’s doing by touching on the matter at this precise time.

“No, I _want_ to talk about it… I thought I was… sparing us both from harm by hiding away from the issue, but I realize now… that’s not the best way to deal with things,” Sydney hesitantly reassures as she feels herself sinking even lower down the glass door, then chortles in a subdued manner as she makes a funny connection in her head. “Story of my life, right?”

“I just… am not sure how I’m supposed to act around you now that we’re no longer supervising attending and resident understudy,” Maggie confesses somewhat self-consciously. “I go visit you at your office and we chat about the latest obstetrics research; we at times watch and discuss TV shows in the on-call room monitor in between shifts; and we communicate effectively during surgeries and consults. I thought that when I stopped being your mentee a month ago, we might finally be able to talk about us, too. And we do talk, Syd, but I feel like we don’t really _talk_.”

Sydney pauses for a second to absorb this observation. “I haven’t been fair to you, Maggie, and for that I want to apologize. You’re right. I haven’t been physically avoiding you on a professional or superficial sense, but I’ve certainly been shutting you out on an emotional or intimate sense.”

“I strive to be the supportive and attentive friend that I know you need right now. I know you’re still trying to adjust to all the changes that have abruptly come about in your life and I’m trying my best to will my feelings to be patient and not just another burden to add to your already overflowing plate, but I’m not a saint, Syd, and I can’t help but agonize over our status sometimes.”

“And you have every right to feel like that, Maggie, I—”

It appears Maggie is not done pouring out her long pent-up emotions because she continues, seemingly without regard to what Sydney had been starting to say.

“Could I be honest with you… for a minute?” Maggie queries apprehensively, still looking away and biting her lip lightly before letting it go. “All of this is so new to me. I hadn’t ever considered…women… until you came along and dropped this bomb in the form of a kiss on me.”

“Wow, is _that_ how I make you feel?” mutters Sydney sardonically, trying to conceal some hurt she felt at the description.

Maggie ignores Sydney’s self-preserving statement and continues, “Let me be clearer: this is a bit of a difficult position for me. I’m not generally the most assertive person on my best days, and I’ve only ever been involved with men, so I’ve known my whole life what my role is in the, uh, courtship ritual, for lack of a better term—banter lightheartedly, sway my hips, linger with my touches, cock an eyebrow seductively, shoot come-hither eyes… and that’s it, I’d catch their interest and broadcast my own! But when I perform the same tactics on you, you’re either purposely choosing not to be receptive or are genuinely oblivious to the signals I’m trying to send to let you know that… I’m attracted to you.”

Sydney blinks, a faint blush beginning to bloom across her cheeks. “Trust me, you were more than effective at putting out the pheromones,” she begins, attempting to assuage Maggie’s feelings of insecurity. She pauses to think about how much she is ready to divulge. “To be perfectly candid, the reasons I didn’t react were neither due the latter nor the former that you mentioned. I _did_ catch on to the hints you were dropping but, in my paranoid mind, I could’ve sworn they were all in my imagination. I didn’t dare believe you would actually take an interest in me outside of picking my brain for consults given that I was your former mentor. I thought I was reading too much into your actions, so rather than give myself false hope, I figured I’d just turn a blind eye on any more-than-friendly interactions that transpired between us.”

Maggie sighs despondently, not at all reassured by what Sydney said. “Then again, you’re a Type A personality type who has a no-nonsense approach to communication and that likes to be presented with all the facts before choosing a course of action. I still remember the scathing e-mail you wrote after misunderstanding my Stat Section joke. Is the same thing happening now? Am I just not being straightforward enough with my intentions? What does a surgical fellow have to do to get the illustrious yet elusive Dr. Katz to give her the time of day?” Maggie huffs out a weak, self-deprecating chuckle. “Wow. Well, there go my efforts not to sound desperate.” Maggie rubs her temples in slight mortification. “Look, I’ve never been the ‘aggressor’ when it comes to pursuing a relationship… I always just left my trail of crumbs for a Gavin or a Joel to follow along, take the hint, and ask me out.” Maggie nervously taps the floor twice and takes a deep breath before vulnerably confessing, “I wish you’d ask me out. But…if I have to be the assertive one and make the first move… I’ll do it. It’s not what I’m used to. I’m not generally the one doing the chasing; rather, it’s the other way around. But, if you give me a chance, I’ll do it.”

Sydney listens intently and allows herself a moment to process Maggie’s revelations. She dismays at the clear evidence that, as she feared, she’s been trampling all over her former resident’s fragile emotions. The normally cheerful and composed Maggie only ever looks as disheartened and withered as she does now when she’s around Sydney; however, what Sydney fails to take into account in her guilt-ridden mind is that Maggie also only ever looks at her happiest and most comfortable when around Sydney, as well.

“Maggie… I’m very grateful for your feelings, I had no idea you felt the same—uhm—this way about me,” Sydney begins, already dreading uttering the rest of her speech as she knows she’s only going to kick Maggie while the physician’s already down. “But I just broke out of an engagement, came out of the closet, and fell out with my family. I don’t think I’m mentally prepared to—”

“I mean, you sort of leave me no choice, you know? I try to go out with the guys that up until recently I would’ve shamelessly gone for, but now when I’m out with them, you’re always there, too. Of course, not literally—except that one time with Dr. Dey—but… in my thoughts. It’s really hard to hit on guys and try to get laid when I feel like I’m cheating on you the whole time. And that’s a peculiar feeling of betrayal to have towards a supposed friend, don’t you think? I’m a free woman, what do _I_ have to feel unfaithful for? You tell me!” Maggie releases a hysterical snort, and then groans, covering her flustered face. “Augh… Sorry. I might’ve gone a little overboard with the ranting there, huh? So much for not putting pressure on you. I must sound like a lovesick loser… Could you do me a favor and forget everything I just said?”

Sydney smiles sympathetically and decides to spare her from further embarrassment by diffusing the stuffy mood. “And trash the memory of your borderline Shakespearean monologue, Dr. Lin? I can’t say I’ll be forgetting that any—"

“You know, Syd, just because my feelings are one-sided doesn’t mean this conversation has to be, as well,” Maggie notes guardedly.

Sydney thinks that it could possibly just be her imagination, but she has the strangest inkling that this conversation **hasn’t** only been incredibly one-sided but they’d been having two completely different conversations altogether, which is curious considering that Maggie is usually the type of person that likes to listen to what people have to say rather than talk about herself (a habit that Sydney was trying to break her out of in order to teach her to be more assertive but this current attitude with cutting her off had been bordering on rude). There is still something very bizarre about their present exchange that Sydney can’t quite place, though.

“Since we’re trying to improve our communication skills with each other and all, would it kill you to say something?” Maggie finally asks with some thinly veiled exasperation, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “You’ve been deathly quiet this entire time, and I feel like I’m talking to a ghost.”

**THUMP.**

The room suddenly tilts ominously in Sydney’s mind as though she’s entered the twilight zone.

She glances to her right from her sitting position with her back still against the glass, curious to catch the source of the sound.

“Syd?” Maggie turns to take a look at what the noise was, as well.

They both see Sydney’s body, unconscious and unresponsive, fully collapsed on the tiled hospital floor.

**“Oh, God, Syd!?”**

Sydney numbly stares at her body in shocked disbelief.

“Sydney!? What’s wrong!? Please _answer_ me!!” Maggie shouts frantically, on her knees, desperately slapping both of her palms on the double glass doors separating her from the ill redhead. “HELP! Someone! Help, please! _Sydney_!”

“But I did… I-I was… answering you… this whole time…” Sydney mumbles hollowly, still watching herself lying on the floor as Maggie’s exclamations and shouts for help.

 _I’m having an out-of-body experience_ , Sydney then has time to rationalize despite her internal panic. _But why did I pass out? How did I get like this? And at what point in the conversation did it occur?_

Sydney runs on autopilot and approaches her body to try and take her own vitals to ascertain that she’s still alive. A part of her doesn’t want to know.

And, apparently, the choice of finding out or not is made for her because her hand can’t feel for her breathing and it passes straight through her wrist when she tries to test for a pulse.

Sydney realizes that Maggie has quieted down. She turns to watch the taller doctor still kneeling but watching Sydney with an intense, analytical gaze. She recognizes it as her doctor-mode look. She notices the momentary relief pass through the surgical fellow’s face before the other doctor even says anything.

“She’s breathing, thank God,” Maggie mutters to herself with an almost religious fervor, clenching her eyes shut in gratefulness at having detected the weak but visible movement of the redhead’s shoulders as she breathed. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou. Shoot. No time. HELP! WE NEED HELP HERE! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME!?”

Maggie stops abruptly. “Right. Cell Phone. Idiot.” She starts dialing Jackson when she hears someone rush in.

“Maggie!? Are you okay!? What’s going o—oh, Sydney, no,” Charlie utters in shock, staring first at the collapsed Sydney and then at the Sydney that was still dazedly leaning over her own collapsed body.

Charlie makes brief eye contact with the Spirit Sydney before he scrambles to tend to her physical body.

Sydney quickly stands up and moves out of the way. Even though she figures that Charlie would’ve just easily passed right through her ghost, it still makes her feel weird to actually go through the experience, so she opts to just remove herself from his path as if she were solid.

Sydney starts to consider Charlie critically. There had been something odd about the way he had looked at… _her_ , not her body.

Charlie repeatedly taps Sydney’s cheek and shakes her body as delicately as he can manage with the sense of urgency rushing through him at seeing Sydney’s spirit. At the same time, Zach runs in, about to ask what’s wrong, but then drinks in the sight before him and rushes to assist.

Zach forces Sydney’s eyelids open. “Pupils dilated.”

Charlie palms her forehead, and then places the stethoscope diaphragm on her chest. “Fever. Tachycardia. ”

Maggie gazes grievously at her lips from the other side of the glass door. “Pale purple tint. Lack of sufficient oxygen.”  

“Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome,” Sydney diagnoses as her eyes widen in horrified realization. “Need to check the back of my neck.”

Charlie does so without glancing at Sydney. He shakes out the hair covering the nape of her neck and locates a large, pervasive red rash.

“I knew it,” Sydney whispers in confirmation, analyzing the red rash for herself before then turning an accusing gaze onto Charlie. “You _can_ hear me.”

Charlie quickly side-eyes her without responding and goes to put on a respiratory mask, instructing Zach to do the same. “Page Jackson, tell him to bring a stretcher, oxygen mask, and ET—stat.”

“On it,” Zach says as he moves to do as told.

“And _see_ me, for that matter,” Sydney adds with a deadpan expression, folding her arms disgruntledly in front of her.

At this time, steps are heard rapidly making their way closer to the crisis. Alex makes her appearance as she turns a corner. She had been watching the video feeds and seen Charlie and Zach rush out of the ER into the Lab entrance area and rushed down to see what was happening. “Maggie! Charlie! Za—oh, Christ, Sydney!?”

Alex runs down the hallway to place a supportive hand on Maggie, who is still on her knees watching Sydney’s strewn body. Alex spots the red rash on Sydney’s neck.

“She’s infected,” Charlie announces, ignoring Sydney’s ghost. “We have to take her to the negative pressure room now to ensure that the lack of air flow will keep the germs from spreading.”

“You’re… you’re wrong, s-she’s not… she’s just—worn out! Excessively so! She hasn’t eaten, it could be—” Maggie knows that what she’s saying makes no sense. There is no other logical explanation. Her eyes become watery as the gravity of the situation sinks in.

“Maggs, you saw the rash just as well as us, there’s no denying this, they have to lock her up to prevent her from infecting others,” Alex appeasingly but firmly reasons with her best friend. “Just for now, okay?”

“It’s what has to be done,” Sydney concurs, trying to reassure Maggie even though she knew her distraught ex-mentee could not possibly hear her.

Maggie continues to unwaveringly gaze at the lifeless figure of Sydney, both hands on the double glass door pushing so impactfully on it that tiny vibrations could be seen. “She was trying to help her patient’s baby… and before that, the woman carrying the baby… she spent so much time around them…” Maggie sniffs and a tear rolls down her cheek. “God, Syd, you’re so…” She wipes her eyes, but this only causes more tears to spring forth. “Ugh, I can’t even be mad at you. You were just doing your job!”

Sydney watches Maggie regard her with a combination of undisguised tenderness and crushed devastation. She has never seen Maggie like this, not even after Joel passed away. Her grief had been intense, but quiet and self-contained. Maggie is the sort of person that is generally accessible with her emotions, but only when they tend to lie in the realm of positivity. She doesn’t like to make others uncomfortable or worry them by being sad or openly crying in front of them. It always seemed to Sydney as though Maggie used her laidback persona as a shield against others detecting any internal turmoil she might find herself grappling with on the inside.

But now, Maggie is beginning to inconsolably weep over Sydney, who can’t help but bitterly reprimand herself for once again driving Maggie to heartbreak.

 _Who am I to be deserving of her tears?_ Sydney questions as she watches Maggie break down further and begin to sob. Alex falls to her knees beside her doleful friend and embraces her fiercely.

“Tell her I’ll be okay,” Sydney requests neutrally, watching Maggie wistfully.

Jackson arrives with the stretcher and the rest of the equipment. Zach moves to take the oxygen mask from him. Charlie gently but steadily lifts Sydney’s body into his arms as he rises to a standing position.

“ _Tell her_ ,” Sydney commands more authoritatively, finally straying her gaze from Maggie and Alex’s direction to meet with Charlie’s.

“You don’t know that,” Charlie murmurs under his breath, tightening his hold on her form.

“W-what?” Maggie blubbers, sniffing again.

Alex looks up, too. She narrows her eyes suspiciously at Charlie’s withdrawn expression. _Is he seeing…? Is Sydney here?_

“Then _lie_ to her, give her false _hope_ , just… don’t leave her like this,” Sydney pleads, extending her arm outwards to point at the despairing obstetrician.

“We’re taking her in now,” Charlie announces loudly, covering what he’d previously said to Sydney that Maggie had overheard.

“Wait! N-now? That’s so soon… I mean, it’s good, but…” Maggie feels torn. She doesn’t want to let Sydney out of her sight, but she rationally knows that she can’t do anything for her from the other side of the glass pane door. She also knows that Sydney’s chances for survival diminish with every second she stays put here.

“We can watch her progress through the monitors in the Board room,” Alex soothes, squeezing and rubbing up and down Maggie’s shoulder to keep her grounded.

“I told her she’d be okay, Charlie, when we were in the on-call room a month ago… she asked me about the future… and I promised her… and now she’s”—Maggie’s breath catches in a hic—“Like this.”

Charlie unceremoniously drops the redhead on the stretcher.

“Have some tact, Dr. Harris,” Sydney remarks with a grimace at seeing herself manhandled so roughly. She shakes off the feeling of offense.  “And, look, I get now that you can’t technically address me directly lest you also get locked up under virtue of insanity, but can you not just leave her falling apart? It’s cruel to witness.”

Charlie makes meaningful eye contact with Sydney’s ghost, which to the rest of his audience just looks as though he’s taking a moment to stare off into space as he processes the situation.

“Breathing’s grown weaker. B.P. is falling!” Jackson exclaims urgently.

“You know us, Maggie, we’ll do everything we can to save her, but we have to go. Now,” Charlie resolutely settles.

Maggie’s face scrunches up in sorrow, but she nods rapidly in understanding, covering her mouth with her palm to muffle her heavy, stuttered breathing.

“Please, Charlie…” Maggie begs one last time as Charlie, Zach, and Jackson start wheeling the senior doctor away, not exactly knowing what she’s asking for. “Do your best. She’s my friend, my colleague, my…” _Everything_. “My mentor…” she finishes lamely, remaining respectful of Sydney’s wish for privacy even when faced with the real possibility of her death.  

Charlie nods gravely. “I will.” He sees Alex move close to the broken girl.

“Don’t despair, Maggie, she’s in good hands, we all know how precious she is to you, okay? We _know_ ,” Alex whispers placatingly for only Maggie to hear as she comfortingly continues to embrace her.

Maggie feels a prompt flare-up of both panic and relief at the revelation—panic at the possibility of her peers actually knowing the extent of her feelings for Sydney that she’s desperately been trying to tamp down in order to keep Sydney’s secret, yet relief at that same possibility because hiding her growing mindfulness for the senior doctor had been taking its toll on her and she was grateful for the sympathetic understanding that they weren’t just detachedly treating some stranger in crisis, but her beloved other half.  

Charlie is about to resume wheeling Sydney’s body away when he takes a moment to consider Sydney powerlessly watching Maggie’s hopeless, empty gaze into the floor. He makes up his mind then.

“Hey, Maggs,” Charlie calls out for the last time. Maggie distractedly looks up. “Chin up, okay? She’s with you in spirit, trust me.”

Maggie blankly blinks, Alex perks up in realization, and Sydney turns her head towards Charlie and quietly murmurs, “Thank you.”

Charlie meets Spirit Sydney’s eyes one last time, nodding in acknowledgment, before turning and rushing Sydney’s body away.

“I’ll catch up in a minute, no way am I letting you treat me without my consult and consent,” Sydney sternly calls out before Charlie is out of earshot.

Charlie shakes his head and rolls his eyes in exasperation. _Doctors make **The Worst** ghosts. _

Before she can follow after the medical team tending to her emergency, Sydney first needs to make sure that the light of her life doesn’t become irreparably dimmed.

The one positive of being a ghost? Sydney can finally cross over the glass door to be with Maggie.

The one negative of being a ghost? Sydney can’t offer tactile comfort to Maggie.

So she sits next to her beautiful girl and settles for lending support by assuming the role of Guardian Angel and staying close to her as she watches Alex wipe her tears, rub her shoulders, caress her hair, and do all the things she wishes she could do… now and—if fate allows—in the future.

**Author's Note:**

> I broke my own heart writing this, but I'd like to think I ended things on a hopeful note? I wanted to find a resolution to the crisis but I don't actually know what the cure for the virus is yet! I borrowed the concept from The Good Doctor Winter Finale and, sadly, viewers won't find out what the virus is until January 2019. 
> 
> To the readers: Let me know if you'd like to see a continuation, but if not, I hope I've rounded things up in as sweet a manner as I could and done justice to the characters at this stage of their canon perspectives!
> 
> Also, I'm on Tumblr if y'all care to follow even though, just like in AO3, I mostly lurk xD! 
> 
> https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/0mniessence
> 
> (p.s. if you catch any typos, grammar error, or tense switching, let me know and I'll fix them! I didn't have the time to beta read!)


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